


I lost the key to my life and you had it

by CherriTee (orphan_account)



Category: Richard/Dean - Fandom, aidean - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:12:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CherriTee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's a bohemian artist moving into an attic apartment in London, trying to find new inspiration from the rainy city of Harry Potter and Queen Elizabeth. But he had another reason for his escape as well.<br/>Can he find what he's looking for from his work or from the very next door?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is my first story. I will mix up your minds big time, because I love both pairings, Richard/Dean and Aidan/Dean, and haven't really decided anything yet.. I'll let Dean decide, it's his life right? 
> 
> I own NOTHING. And no one... Unfortunately.

Chapter One:  
It's Tough to be an  
Artist so you need  
Another Job

Dean heaved the heavy suitcase to the next stair, feeling the sweat glue his flanel on his back, his blonde curls constantly falling on his face. His arms and back hurt, and he looked miserably at the two remaining floors ahead. Why did the elevator have to be broken?  
"This is what you get when you want an attic apartment." He mumbled to himself through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath and raising the edge of the huge suitcase again, sliding it slowly to the next step. He glanced down, seeing four suitcases more waiting for their turn. Deciding that a break would be for the best, he gave up and sat next to his suitcase, unaware of how he blocked the way. 

Dean had chosen London as his new home town for two reasons. Or that's what he told himself. To see the world and to get new inspiration. At the back of his mind a hollow voice said that he had just chosen the city because it was far from his home in New Zealand, but Dean ignored the voice stubbornly. Whatever his reasons were, he was here now, and he planned on staying too. So far he liked London-it was a fairly beautiful day, a little cool but sunny, and the old houses were just amazing for someone who had seen only nature and sheep for all his life. Main reason why he needed inspiration-sheep weren't the best models for anything. 

Dean yawned, the jet lag slowly taking the best of him. He planned on continuing his task, when his cell phone rang and he dug it up from his pocket, seeing his mother's number flash on the screen. Dean brought the phone to his ear. 

"Mom, hi! Isn't it like, midnight there?" He asked. 

"Yes, but I had to call to make sure my darling's okay!" His mother said, and her voice made him miss home. Already. 

"Mom, I'm twenty-six. I manage." Dean sighed. 

"I know, Deano. But.. London's just so far away and.." 

"Mom.. Please. Don't." Dean said quietly. 

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry. Well, I'll leave you to unpack." His mom sounded weary and a little distant. 

"No, I didn't mean that you'd-" Dean tried. 

"It's fine, I'll go to bed." 

"Mom-" 

"Be safe, dear. Call me when you have settled." And with that, his mother hung up.

Dean groaned, hanging his head down as the staircase swayed dizzily in his eyes. His mother knew why he had left. She knew, yet she had to bring it up. Didn't she understand she was making Dean's decision harder? 

"Are you allright?" A concerned voice asked from behind Dean. His head snapped up, and he turned to the voice, meeting a pair of very blue eyes that belonged to a tall, gorgeous man. He was clad in a tailored suit, his black hair carelessly but stylishly swiped back. A neat, short stubble covered the man's jaw. 

"I, uh.. Yes, I'm fine." Dean stumbled up, and the man shot out an arm to steady him. Dean blushed, coughing. 

"You don't look like that." The man said, his intense eyes piercing holes into Dean's head. Then he pulled his arm back, as if realizing he was holding Dean's hand.  
"I hope I don't seem rude." He added, as if an afterthought. 

"No, no.. I just.. These suitcases are a bit heavy and I was taking a break." Dean said, flashing a smile.  
"I'm Dean O'Gorman. Moving to the attic apartment." 

"Richard Armitage. Didn't know there's an apartment there." The man smiled. "I live down the hall. In case you need anything." He glanced at the suitcases.  
"It seems you need help already." 

"If you just could.. I don't want to be a bother. But I had quite a faith in the elevator." Dean said, and Richard laughed, a short but pleasant laugh, his low baritone making Dean shudder. 

"You are not a bother. I can ask my friend-oh, there he is. Graham!" Richard said, loud enough for the other man at the end of the stairs to look up. He was tall and bald, quite intimidating, his arms muscled and tanned. 

"Come give me a hand! Could you bring the suitcases up?" Richard asked. The man-Graham-obeyed, taking two of the suitcases and coming up to them. He nodded at Dean. 

"Where to?" He asked. 

"Attic." Richard announced, grabbing the suitcase Dean had struggled to get up with ease, making Dean feel somewhat embarrassed. With Richard leading the way, the trio climbed the last stairs. Graham and Richard put the suitcases in front of Dean's door, and without a word Graham disappeared to get the last ones. When he came back and put them down, Dean smiled. 

"Thank you so much. Dean O'Gorman." He introduced himself. Graham took the offered hand and shook it with a firm grip.

"Graham McTavish." He grunted. 

"Anything else you need?" Richard asked kindly. 

"No, no, this is more than enough. Thank you so much." Dean assured. 

"Richard, we'll be late soon." Graham said, and Richard glanced at his watch. 

"So it seems. Dean, you're welcome to ask me if there's anything you need help with-my door is always open to you." Richard smiled. 

"T-thanks." Dean said. 

"I'll drive." Graham announced, turning on his heels and rushing down the stairs, Richard right behind him after giving a friendly nodd for goodbyes. Dean waited until he heard the front door shut down before he opened his own one, stepping into the sunny apartment. 

The apartment's base was very open, just to Dean's liking. He could see the huge livingroom and the open kitchen, and two doors leading into the bedroom and bathroom. The floor was shiny, polished wood, the walls painted white except for the one in the back, which was red. A leather couch ruled the living room, a tv placed on a shelf on the far wall. Soft carpet was almost thrown into the hall, and Dean saw pots and pans on the kitchen counters, as well as a coffee machine, which was very important to him. Luke had done fine work. 

His phone rang again, and he picked it up.  
"Speak of the devil." He grinned, answering. 

"Hi Luke!" 

"Deano! Are you there yet?" His friend asked. Dean heard someone yell 'Evans!' At the background, and knew Luke was at work. 

"I am, yeah. Thanks so much, it looks amazing." Dean smiled. Luke was his only friend here in London, and it felt safe to know Luke was able to come to his place if he needed. 

Luke seemed to read his mind. 

"I gotta go, but you know I'll come there immediately if you need so." He said seriously. 

"I know. Go before they kill you and I'm all alone." Dean grinned. 

"Can't let that happen." Luke laughed. "Bye!"

Dean put the phone on to a side table, pulling his suitcases into the hall and closing the door. He couldn't wait to start his new life in London. 

First he opened the biggest suitcase, unpacking his drawing supplies-sketch books, pencils, brushes, paints, erasers, rulers, colors, crayons and ink, placing them onto the kitchen counter at the lack of better space. Then he trotted wearily to the bedroom, opening the door to see what it was like. 

The opposite wall was crooked. A big skylight just above his king size bed gave the hoped sunlight, and Dean smiled. The room was still rather plain, but nice, and the bed was so inviting... He stumbled towards it, landing on the pillows and sheets, curling his fingers onto a soft blanket, and immediately falling asleep. He wouldn't remember it come morning, but his last thought was that of a tall man with black hair and low, rumbling voice.


	2. Perfection Next Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our Deano gets another chance and wonders just how perfect can his neighbor be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! ^^ Dean has been taken over by killer jet lag, and thanks to his friend he has some assuring to do to the hot neighbor... XD I will probably update new chapter everyday now that I am on my summer vacation, or then a little slower but I give my word I won't leave you hanging!

Dean woke up in the same position he had fallen asleep on, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. The sun didn't shine through the skylight anymore, but the sky was light blue, and the alarm clock next to Dean's bed told him it was eight in the morning. He had slept for good sixteen hours then.  
No wonder his back hurt like hell. 

Groaning he pushed himself up, using his arms, and sat to the edge, cracking his back and neck. His mind was foggy and slow, his eyes drooping, and he couldn't stop the yawn from coming. He dug his suffered phone from his pocket, only to find sixteen missed calls, each from Luke. His friend must've been worried dead. Dean dialed Luke's number and waited. 

Luke answered after the second ring. 

"Dean! Where the hell are you? I thought we agreed you'd call me after you meet your boss! Did everything go well?" Luke asked, sounding relieved. 

But Dean's stomach dropped. "What boss?"

"What-what do you mean what boss! You were supposed to meet him yesterday at six! That.. Turner! Dean, don't tell me.." Luke went silent and Dean mentally slapped himself. 

"I fell asleep. And woke up just now." He mumbled. 

"I've been calling you every hour! I thought you are dead, I even came to your door.. Oh yeah, you should probably meet that Armitage too, he heard me punching your door and I told him you're missing. He seemed quite worried." Luke sounded sheepish. 

"No.. Luke!" Dean sighed. "It's only natural for me to not open the door in the middle of the night!" 

"It was eight o'clock! Evening. I thought you had returned from the job interview and so on. Now call that Turner and see if there's anything you can do anymore, and then go tell that Armitage you are alive and well. I have to go to work, I'm already late because I wanted to hear from you first." Luke said, but didn't sound angry or accusing, just relieved. 

"Will do. I'll call you when you have lunch break." Dean promised, and with a laugh Luke hung up. 

"Fuck!" Dean cursed immediately. He had completely forgotten the job interview. Of course he had been stupid, having booked the appointment for the same night he'd arrive, but the attic apartment wasn't cheap, so he couldn't wait for a few weeks. Praying that he wouldn't be off that Turner's list already he dialed his number, eyes squeezed shut. 

After the twentieth ring he was about to give up when the phone was picked up and a very sexy, very sleepy voice answered. 

"Aidan Turner," the voice said, yawning right after, and with another curse Dean remembered the pub was open through night and the days were the time to sleep. 

"Uh.. Morning! It's Dean O'Gorman, the.. The one who was supposed to be in the job interview last night but forgot." Dean said quickly. He wondered what Aidan looked like, his voice certainly was sexy as hell. 

"Oh yeh, you." Aidan said. From that little sentence Dean could hear the strong Irish accent, and it made him feel warm. 

"I just wanted to say I'm so sorry, really, I have a terrible jet lag and I fell asleep." Dean explained, not sure if Aidan was angry or sleepy. Or both. 

"Yeh, I understand." Aidan said, yawning again. "But I'm sleeping, just got home an hour ago." 

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry-" Dean literally slapped himself this time. Aidan laughed, a warm laugh though sleepy and slow. 

"Ya know what, meet me at one, let's have a brunch. In the coffee shop next to the pub, that is." 

"What? Shouldn't you sleep-?" 

"Nah, today's gonna be busy at night, if you get the place you'll be needed, so just do as I say. G'night." Aidan ended the call, and for a while Dean just listened to the silence, trying to process the conversation in his head.

Aidan hadn't seemed upset, that was a pro. But Dean had woke him up, which was definetly a con. Aidan had ordered for them to have brunch, so Dean had an opportunity. Pro. But Dean had argued to it, asking if Aidan should sleep, after waking him up himself. Con. Sighing Dean dropped the phone to the bed, stood up and trotted into the hall, opening one of the unpacked suitcases for clothes, deodorant, toothbrush and -paste and a towel. He definetly needed a shower, if he'd go to assure Richard of his well being, looking like a corpse wouldn't speak for him. 

The bathroom was nice, big and well lit, and it had a bath tub. Dean really wanted to soak himself in a hot bath, but he was afraid he'd fall asleep again and drown. And in that case, Luke would wake him up just to kill him again. So he just put the shower running, waiting for warm water as he brushed his teeth. His hair had grown a little, wildly pointing on every direction and curling at the nape of his neck and on his forehead. His eyes were still a little glassy, the blue of them hazed. But his skin was nicely tanned after the sun of New Zealand, which was good. 

Dean stepped under the water, letting it wash the remains of sleep off him. He wondered how hard Luke had knocked if it had caused Richard to come and see what was going on. But then again, it was Luke. It was a miracle he hadn't knocked the door in-probably thanks to Richard. Dean ought to thank him later. 

He dressed up to a new pair of black jeans and a plain, white t shirt with no brand on it, and ran a hand through his ruffled hair to tame it a little. He felt a short stubble on his jaw and decided to buy something to shave it with as soon as possible. Then he shoved his keys, wallet and phone into the pockets of his leather jacket and left, heading down the hall in search of Richard's door. 

He found it easily enough, the name Armitage on the door hitting his eye-Armitage. It was a really nice surname in the middle of the basic British names. Wondering if Richard too would be sleeping, Dean raised his hand and knocked. 

It took Richard ten seconds to open, and Dean's breath hitched. He had forgotten just how gorgeous the brit was. Richard was tall, his hair fluffed after the night. He was wearing a pair of tidy jeans that fit perfectly, and a white dress shirt and a black vest. Both still half way open, revealing a perfect chest, though Dean didn't dare to stare, instead looking into those deep blue eyes, surrounded by thick, dark lashes. 

Richard looked surprised, looking down at Dean as if he didn't quite know what to do. Then he seemed to snap out of it, a smile gracing his handsome face.

"Come in." He said, moving aside to let Dean walk into the hall. Dean did, taking in the fact Richard's apartment was a lot bigger than his... And full of books. There were books everywhere, on the tables, on the couch, on the chairs and peaking out from the shelves. Beautiful antique furniture decorated the living room, and all kinds of statues from different exotic countries were placed on places that weren't occupied by books. A beautiful, old globe stood in one corner, its surface pierced with dozens of tiny flags-the places Richard had visited, it seemed. 

Suddenly Dean noticed Richard was looking at him, smiling, and he blushed deeply, gesturing around the apartment. 

"Very nice." He said. Richard laughed that sexy laugh of his again. 

"Thank you." He said, clearly waiting for Dean to speak his mind. 

"Look, yesterday.. I heard from Luke, my friend, that you had heard him knocking at my door last night-" Dean started. 

"Knocking? That wasn't knocking." Richard arched an eyebrow. Dean swallowed. So he had thought. That damned Luke. 

"And he said I should come assure you I'm alive. It was the jet lag, I fell asleep and missed my job interview and... Yeah." 

"I knew you are alive." Richard hummed. He walked past Dean, sending shivers down his spine as his arm touched Dean's. "I thought that friend of yours was trying to break in." 

Dean felt himself so stupid. Of course. Of course Luke had wanted him to come to Richard and prove Luke was his friend. Geez. Not to prove he wasn't dead. Oh dear lord. 

"But I'm glad you are alive." Richard said. He was pouring coffee into two cups, and offered one for Dean without looking up.  
"You look like you need coffee. Trust me, I recognize another coffee addict when I see one." 

Dean took the cup and sipped, definetly needing it. And it was... heavenly. He had never had such perfectly made coffee. 

"Amazing." He hummed happily. Richard observed him as he drank, and Dean grew more awkward the more the coffee cleared his head. Finally he looked up, back at Richard, and found the man smiling at him. 

"You are adorable." Richard said. It took Dean a while to understand his words, and when he did he felt his face burning. 

"Excuse me?" He asked. Richard shrugged, glancing at the clock on the wall. The morning sun from the window sharpened the angles of his face, but softened the line of his neck, making his hair glow, and Dean felt the urge to paint Richard. He would use coal, bottle glass blue and faint gold to paint the brit. He put it as his goal for someday-paint Richard's portrait. Richard had that ageless handsomeness to him that Dean always envied. 

"It's nice that you came here." Richard smiled. "I have to go, though. Is there anything you need?" 

"What? Oh, no, no I'm fine. I'll go too.." Dean backed up as Richard took his coat from the hanger and led them out of the apartment, closing the door and striding along the corridor to the stairs. Dean didn't know what to do, following Richard would be most embarrassing, but he didn't want to go home either. 

His problem was solved as Richard turned, grabbed his hand and, with a brilliant smile, said: 

"Let me offer you breakfast."


	3. Breakfast and brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First a breakfast with Richard, then a brunch with Aidan-how can two men be so different but still after the same thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand finally-Aidan Turner, ladies and gentlemen! ^^ And I know, Richard maybe isn't what people think he is in my story, I like to write him to be more bold and more straight forward. Hope no one minds..

The coffee shop Richard chose was small and incredibly cozy, the tables and booths set in a way that the customers had a little privacy. The windows were big and gave to the street, letting the morning sunlight dye the walls golden. Dean smelled coffee and oranges, and found out soon enough how hungry he was. 

Richard led him into a booth before going to the counter, the way he greeted the waitress telling Dean that Richard was probably often seen there. Richard leaned against the counter, most likely perfectly unaware of how amazing he looked-Dean felt himself blush for the hundreth time that morning, and he tore his eyes off the man and to the street instead. 

People were on their way to work, walking hurriedly, most of them holding paper mugs of coffee. Or tea, Dean didn't know but he had heard British people were crazy about their tea and tea times. So when Richard placed their breakfast to the table, having a coffee for Dean and tea for himself, Dean had to smile. 

Richard noticed that. "I didn't say it to you, but... Good morning." He said, almost grinning. 

"Good morning." Dean nodded, looking at the food. Toast, eggs, salad, fruits, cheese, everything imaginable. Remembering his fridge at home was empty, Dean attacked the food. "How much do I owe you?" He asked, thinking that a breakfast like this probably cost. A lot. 

But Richard just shook his head. "Nothing." 

"No, I can't do that." Dean said, though he knew he didn't have much money yet, and he still had to pay for the brunch with Aidan. 

"Yes you can. Why couldn't you? People can do anything." Richard said, sipping his tea, his eyes on Dean. 

"God, don't look at me like that." Dean huffed. "I've been blushing so much I'm soon permanently red." He didn't know why he said it, and from where he took the courage, but as Richard laughed he decided he didn't care. That laugh was worth it. 

"I'm just looking. It's not a particular way. I said earlier that you are adorable, and I find looking at you nice." Richard shrugged. "Please don't feel creeped out. It's merely a compliment." 

"I-I'm not creeped out." Dean sighed. "It's just that I've never heard anyone calling me adorable." Which he sure didn't think he was. He was small and short, yes, but.. Well, everyone had their kinks. 

"You should've." Richard said, smiling. "If for nothing else, people should say it because it makes you blush." 

"Well.. Well, if a stranger comes and calls you adorable.. Wouldn't you blush?" Dean asked. 

Richard leaned back on his chair, thinking. 

"No." He said finally. "One can hardly call me adorable. And besides, I'm always open for compliments. They can change a day for the better." He explained. 

"Well, in that case." Dean grinned. "Your hair is amazing." 

Richard's eyes widened a little. "I've heard that already." He said then, casually, but Dean heard the challenge. 

"Your eyes are beautiful. Sorry I'm not poetic enough to go for the deep stuff." Dean said. 

"That's okay. But I've heard that too." Richard said. 

"You're handsome." Dean tried. Richard laughed. "First time I heard that, twenty years ago." 

"For crying out loud!" Dean sighed. "You're hot!" 

"Now there.." Richard looked straight at him. "Is something relatively new. Not new, to be sure, but never before has someone I met the day before say that as a compliment."

"Sorry.." Dean mumbled. What the hell was he doing? He didn't mean to flirt with the man, god no, even though he was gay and found Richard extremely attractive. But he couldn't know if Richard liked-or prefered-men too. He sure gave signs to that direction, but... 

"No, don't apologize, Dean. There's no need to." Richard said, his tone warm and friendly. But Dean was too embarrassed to look up. 

"I'm sorry." Richard said suddenly. "I've made you feel uncomfortable." 

"No, no, it's fine, I-" Dean started. 

"You know what?" Richard asked, but didn't wait for Dean to ask what. "I've noticed that everytime you are NOT fine, you claim you are." 

Now Dean looked up. Richard had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes sparkling warmly but now more distantly. Dean didn't want to think what had caused that. 

"Richard-" 

"I have to go." Richard said abruptly, standing up. "It's almost noon and Graham will be angry... Look I'm sorry about this, forget it will you? I'm..." Suddenly he seemed vulnerable, blushing and looking away from Dean. "I'm not usually like this. Sorry. Have a good day!" He waved his hand, smiled to the waitress and disappeared, leaving Dean to stare at his half full tea cup.

What had just happened? Had it been Dean's fault? Yes, Richard made him feel uncomfortable, but in a very good way. 

Dean stood up too, thanking the waitress on his way out. First Richard had been the most confident guy ever, and then suddenly the escape, the blushing? Dean sighed as he peered at his clock-it was twelve. He might as well head to the brunch, he'd be a little early but so what, he could sit and try to make space for more food. 

He tried to call Luke, knowing he was having his lunch break, but Luke didn't answer, probably too busy to eat. Dean was dying to lecture Luke and to tell him what had happened, but he knew Luke wasn't too talkative or observant during work, so Dean gave up and started walking. 

It was only at one o'clock he admitted to himself he was lost. He had no idea where the pub was, and he was supposed to be meeting Aidan right NOW. Dean sighed, knowing he had to ask someone, like a tourist. So he tapped the shoulder of the nearby man, who had stopped to light a cigarette. The man turned, and Dean swallowed-was this damned town only made of hot men? This one was tall, though not as tall as Richard, and had brown eyes like melted chocolate. His brown hair was quite long and wildly curly, and a dark stubble covered his jaw. He was wearing ripped jeans and a flanel. The man was frowning, but didn't seem angry, just.. casual. 

"Excuse me, but could you tell me.." Dean stopped. He didn't know the coffee shop's name. Nor the pub's. 

The hot guy blew out smoke, looking at Dean curiously. 

"Yeh?" He asked. "You lost?" 

"I was supposed to have a job interview at one, but I can't find the place, and I don't even know the name..." 

"No shit!" The man seemed excited, and Dean took a step back. The other looked like an overgrown puppy. "Dean O'Gorman?" 

"I am." Dean nodded. 

"Aidan Turner." The other grinned, offering a hand.

Dean was left gaping, until Aidan reached for his hand and shook for the both of them, grinning widely. 

"I was just on my way there, stylishly late and expecting for you to be there. But no. You are better than me in this." Aidan said, blowing a cloud of smoke, careful that it didn't go anywhere near Dean. 

"No, I wasn't trying to be late.. I got lost." Dean said quickly. Aidan arched his eyebrow. 

"Yeh, I know. It's my fault, I never mentioned the name." Aidan shrugged. Then his eyes lit up and a devilish grin sent shivers down Dean's spine. Where had he put himself into? "Guess it." 

"What?" Dean was confused and Aidan clicked his tongue impatiently. 

"The name. What do you think it is?" He explained, and Dean noticed suddenly that they were walking-he was following Aidan who walked backwards, looking straight into Dean's eyes. 

"Uh.. I really have no idea.." 

"No no no! Try. I won't laugh." Aidan smirked. 

"Great." Dean sighed, defeated by the brown gaze. "Uh.. Well... The Prancing Pony?" He said. Something in Aidan reminded him of the dwarves of the Hobbit, and the first pub-like thing he remembered was that one. Truth to be told, Dean really had no idea why he had suggested that. 

Aidan's eyes widened and he halted, Dean walking straight to his chest and almost bouncing back-Aidan's chest was like a frigging rock. He looked up, surprised, and found Aidan smiling widely. The only thing to add would've been a wagging tail. 

"I really like ya." Aidan said excitedly. "You got it right! Does it show that I'm a huge Hobbit and Lord of the Rings fan? Is that why you guessed it?" Aidan looked down at himself, but there wasn't anything in him that could've told. Dean shook his head. 

"No, I guess it came to my head because I'm a fan too. Have been since I visited Hobbiton in New Zealand-" 

"You've been there?!" Aidan asked, grabbing Dean's arm and pulling the blonde into another coffee shop during the same day. This was bigger and full of people having brunch-Dean didn't want to eat, but he could most definetly chat with Aidan. The Irish man seemed really fun and easy-going guy, and Dean knew he was probably going to have good time at work as well. "Two Americano's!" Aidan said loudly, and a nearby waitress gave a hasty nodd. "How'd you know I love Americano?" Dean grinned, and Aidan shrugged, sitting on to a table near the door. Immediately his fingers started drumming the table, and Dean thought if he had some form of ADHD-Aidan seemed very restless all the time. "I figure. I can figure a lot of things by people's faces only." Aidan said, but it wasn't bragging-he just said it like he was talking about weather or something as boring as that. "Okay. Well, start questioning, this is a job interview." Dean smiled. "Nah, you've got the place already. Jimmy just wanted me to check on you as well. Last time I hired over a phone interview, things got pretty fucked up." Aidan grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes, and something inside Dean told him now was the time to tell he was trustworthy. "I've never worked in a pub before." He started. "But I wanted to, because I kind of hate day time work. I want to paint and draw when it's sunny and work for money when it's not. I'm an artist. I don't claim that working in a pub isn't working for me, it is, but it's nice. I could never work with computers or anything because I don't have the needed qualities-called patience-to do that." Aidan nodded, looking relatively curious. "Besides, pubs in London are like, what, a legend, and a Prancing Pony to that? Geez." Dean grinned, and Aidan laughed, now genuinely. "I really like ya, Deano." He said as the waitress brought their coffees. Dean smiled-Aidan didn't try to order food-maybe he had figured Dean was already full. "I think I like you too, Aidan." Dean said. "Don't say that." Aidan said quickly. "Not before you've really spent time with me and truly seen what a crazy ass person I am." "I think I can manage." "So they all say. But I'm unique." Aidan said, his tone a little sad, and Dean looked up from his coffee to find Aidan staring at his. "Aid-" "Do you like blanket forts?" Aidan asked suddenly. The question really surprised Dean, and he coughed, almost choking. "Like WHAT?" "Blanket forts. They are-" "I know what they are. And yes, I liked them when I was a kid." Dean nodded. "No, do you STILL like them?" Aidan insisted. "Well, maybe I do, haven't really done one in a.. Longer time that I'd like to admit. Why?" Dean scratched the back of his neck, unsure whether to cry or laugh. Aidan choose to laugh. "Just asking. I love them. Well, one more question!" "One more?" "One. Do you know One Piece?" Aidan's eyes sparkled. "Like the.. Japanese cartoon?" Dean frowned. "It's called manga." Aidan rolled his eyes. "But yeh, that one." "No. I've hear of it. But haven't read." Dean hoped he wouldn't lose a job because of a Japanese cartoon-manga. But Aidan just laughed again, sipped down the rest of his coffee, stood up and performed a little bow. "See ya tonight!" He laughed, giving the waitress enough money to cover Dean's coffee too, and stepping out, quickly melting into the flow of people walking on the street. Dean could only stare. "What's wrong with everyone?" He mumbled just as the waitress passed by. She looked at him, winked, and said: "Love is in the air."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn!! The end of the chapter came like this now, I don't know why but please don't mind..


	4. Manga, blanket forts and Ireland?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read it and you'll see it.

Dean stared at the sign over the pub's door. It was a very old, wooden sign with a picture of a pony on it-and it was so similar to the one in the movie that Dean had to laugh. He pushed the door open and stepped into the empty pub. It would open in twenty minutes, and Aidan was at the far end of the cozy room, putting down the chairs that stood on the small, round tables. He was whistling a tune that sounded dreadfully like the funeral march, and Dean couldn't resist the urge to sneak up behind the brown haired guy and slam his hands on Aidan's shoulders. 

"Jesus!!" Aidan shouted, turning and finding a grinning Dean standing in front of him. 

"I'm not, though they say the resemblance is startling." Dean said. 

Aidan guffawed just as someone else peaked into the room from behind the long counter. This man was grey haired and had dark eyebrows, and a devilish grin on his Irish face. 

"Good job laddie, not many do that to their boss on the first night." He winked, circling the counter and coming to Dean, offering a hand. 

"James Nesbitt, but Jimmy for friends." He smiled. 

"Dean O'Gorman." Dean said, shaking the hand. 

"Deano for friends." Aidan added, having returned to his task of putting the chairs down.

"So, what will I do?" Dean asked, a little helplessly-the pub was perfectly clean and in order, the huge fireplace already lit as well as the lamps. Jimmy had just finished washing the glasses so that they shone, and after Aidan put down the last chair, they were basically ready to start. 

"Tonight some guy has booked the place for his bachelor party, so we'll be busy and we'll be here late. Hope you came prepared. The guy's a huge Hobbit fan and as soon as he saw the sign he demanded I have a private night for them, though I never do that really." Aidan explained, throwing a black apron to Dean, which he tied to his waist. 

"I'm prepared. Fellow fans can't be too bad." Dean said. 

"Wait until ya see this one." Jimmy said happily, when suddenly Aidan let out a shout that made Dean jump higher than he had thought a human could. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, rushing to the brunette. 

"I forgot to write the name tags in Khuzdul! It was Adam's wish! Darn it! And I can't remember the language without google, double darn it." Aidan sighed. 

"Well, then feel free to call me an angel, because I do know Khuzdul as well as I know english, and I shall have the name tags done in five." Dean said proudly. 

"Oh sweet lord you ARE an angel!" Aidan leaned in to lay a warm kiss on Dean's cheek, leaving the blonde a little flustered, and then he slammed small papers, a list of names and a pen in front of Dean.

"Here. They'll be here in half an hour, and the catering should arrive any minute.. This isn't a restaurant, so I had to order the food from elsewhere. Adam paid it." Aidan shrugged.

Dean did as told, quickly writing the names down-he loved photographing, painting and sketching, so the task was not much for him. Still, he blushed as Aidan gaped at the papers. 

"Amazing! Hey, you forgot two names." He folded the paper open and pointed at the last ones. Dean nodded, resuming his work, having already started the letter R, when the name hit him. 

Richard Armitage. Hot wave washed over him and he inhaled quickly-Richard and that scary friend of his, Graham McTavish. Both coming here. Tonight. For several hours. When Dean was here to serve them. After that horribly awkward morning. Which reminded him he should call Luke. But not now! Dean slammed his forehead. Richard was coming here in twenty-frigging-minutes.

"Are you allright?" It was Jimmy, looking worriedly at Dean's flushed face. 

"Yes, yes, I just remembered I have to call mom... Not now but later, and she's furious. Real partypooper eh?" 

Jimmy laughed, leaving Dean to wither in horror. For some reason, Dean didn't want to meet Richard when Aidan was around. Most definetly not. He didn't know why, but the thought made his stomach ache. He had flirted with Richard and nearly taken everything back, causing the man to leave. He had probably flirted with Aidan too. Had indeed. 

In a second Dean was up and at the garbage bin, heaving the contents of his stomach and retching helplessly even when there was nothing to come anymore. Shaking, he stood straight when a pair of arms grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, to stare straight into Aidan's concerned eyes. 

"Deano? What's wrong?" He asked, and Jimmy observed from his place at the counter. Dean tried to shrug it off, smiling.  
"I felt bad from the morning," he said, which was actually true. "I'm still all jet lagged and a big brunch maybe wasn't the best idea.. I'm fine." 

Aidan looked like he'd believe him just as much as he would if Dean had told him he was the God of Sandwiches or something. 

"I want you to go home." Aidan said strictly. 

"No, I am really fine, I-" 

"Hey, you threw up all over the trash bin." Aidan smiled. "I want you to be healthy. We'll manage with Jimmy-Adam isn't a booze-party-person, so no trouble should be expected. Please go home and call me tomorrow." Aidan slid his hands down and untied the black apron, throwing it to Jimmy. 

"Take care, lad." Jimmy smiled warmly. Dean nodded, defeated, and walked to the door, a little weak in the knees. That was the reason he stumbled straight into someone's arms just outside the door. Looking up, he met Richard's blue eyes, looking down at him with concern. 

"Are you allright?" Richard asked, holding Dean's whole weight, and for a while Dean gathered his strength in the firm grip before backing up. 

"M'fine." He mumbled. 

"Look, Dean, about this morning, I-" Richard started, but Dean had spotted Graham, coming from the car, and Aidan's form behind the door, head turned back to say something to Jimmy, but coming out for a cigarette nonetheless. 

"Let's call, okay? I'm in a bit of a hurry.." Dean muttered and hurried away, not looking back but wanting to melt right there and flow down the nearest sewer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this being late too.. There was a death in my close family just few days ago.. Sorry. And well, for those who wish for more drama, there will be in the next chapter! Flowers, surprise visits, all that and more ^^


End file.
